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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28698876">Come Closer || DreamNotFound</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freckled_corpse/pseuds/Freckled_corpse'>Freckled_corpse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Awkward Flirting, Confessions, Flirting, Florida man gone feral, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, LGBTQ, M/M, Pining, Rain, Romance, Secrets, Slow Burn, Winter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:34:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,893</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28698876</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freckled_corpse/pseuds/Freckled_corpse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Frost Creeping upon the windows, hailstone crackling against the roof; George found it easy to survive through the Godforsaken British winters yet lost in the midst of terrible weather, will he be able to survive when the only warmth he feels is the result of a faceless boy halfway across the world. </p><p>“Describe it to me, I want to see the winter from your eyes” Dream muttered into the phone calmly, soon falling silent and waiting for a response<br/>“Well...<br/>It’s like love; warm yet cold, harsh yet soft </p><p> </p><p>Winter is like you, dream”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Winter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It’s been years since I’ve put effort into writing something and my mind decided, hey let’s attempt a DreamNotFound fic! Winter was my main plot point and I guess it just Kind’ve evolved.<br/>Please DO NOT share with any of the people involved! You do not need to share with anyone just enjoy it yourselves.<br/>Don’t share to other sources or upload my work anywhere else, that’s not pog.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> <br/><em>London England, January 1st</em><br/>The world turned, life continued and George watched it go by one second at a time, the white glow of his pc illuminated the dark bedroom surrounding him, preventing the boy from being engulfed with darkness. The room, his one bedroomed apartment in London was a mess, boxes lying everywhere and only a pc, a monitor and a bed set up and slowly freezing over by the second. George moved into his new apartment weeks ago but his effort has been focused on his friends and his streams, he can survive with just a pc and a bed right? <br/>Staring out a window, watching time pass as each droplet of rain hits the glass, dim street lights lined upon the path, he watches and observes. London, England, Home. The streets appear deserted, lost even much like he was with his thoughts now focusing on much around him. It’s 3:45 and he couldn’t sleep which isn’t unusual for him but it wasn’t  common, he liked sleep most of the time.</p>
<p><em>”Its probably 11pm in Florida...”</em> George whispered to himself, breaking the complete silence surrounding himself. Thinking out loud wasn’t something he considered himself to do yet thinking was something he did to much and his thinking didn’t necessarily lead to amazing things. Most of his thoughts were contained by a certain faceless boy, they were friends it wasn’t weird. It’s normal to think about your best friends at 3 am in the morning, wondering what they’re up to or whom they’re talking to... right?</p>
<p>Spacing out, ignoring the things around him, his eyes slowly began to droop and collapse into themselves, his cheek leant against the palm of his hands as he huddled next to the radiator underneath the window, eyelashes grazing against themselves.</p>
<p>Dream probably had nice eyelashes right? Long, perfectly settled against his face... it’s surprisingly hard to picture what a guy’s face whom you’ve known for a long time, for all George knew he could be purple with bright green hair. His mind started to drift into what he hoped was a sleep until he was unmistakably interrupted by the incoming sound of a discord call, his monitor lighting up the room with a blue hue. His eyes creaked open in annoyance but also hope, blurry yet focusing on the image across the room as he realised it was Dream’s Icon.</p>
<p>Dream was calling him? </p>
<p><em>What the fuck it’s 3 am</em>.</p>
<p>Regardless of his worries for his own sanity he slugged over to his freezing chair and slumped down encased in his blanket, hoping to warm up at least just a tad, maybe he should sort his heating out or dig for a hot water bottle. A hot chocolate? No it’s too late for one. Whatever, getting too sidetracked. He clicked accept on the call and waited for Dream to at least speak.<br/><em>”...Hello?”</em><br/>He heard his voice, he forgot how much he loved his voice, in a friendly way obviously, it’s something he could listen to on a podcast. Dream’s voice was nice.</p>
<p><em>“Hey dream”</em> George said, a smile already creeping upon his face and they’ve said a total of three words in the conversation. </p>
<p><br/><em>“Isn’t it Three am? Why did you pick up?"</em> Dream asked as if he didn’t call the man in the first place.</p>
<p><em>”huh.. dream? You called me of course I was going to pick up, something could’ve happened I care about you man. Besides... I wasn’t sleeping anyway</em>” George shrugged. He sounded tired, he knows he sounds tired. He leant back and snuggled into his chair his eyes slowly falling as he thought to stay awake. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>“well, I just wanted to talk to you I guess, hear your voice, ask how your doing. Nothing much is going on over here recently and I feel like I haven’t talked to you for months even if it’s been 2 days- George... Hello?”</em>
</p>
<p>Dream slightly rambled on with himself until he realised the lack of response from the British boy. He listened close only to hear soft breathing whilst on the other side of the screen George had fell asleep to his soft voice even if Dream hadn’t spoke much. Dream smiled to himself, his dirty blonde hair falling in front of his eyes as he started at the stream.<br/><em>”Goodnight George”</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Cold. All he felt was cold. George was sure he felt warm a second ago wrapped in a blanket, in his chair talking to Dream yet now hes stripped of his blanket, in a shirt and shorts in the middle of a void. It kinda looked like his apartment, empty, without life, cold. It reminded him a bit too much of his apartment. Was it a dream, a dream from talking to dream? How ironic. He didnt dream much so its very odd now and so, he wandered the void.</p>
<p>A void of his mind? His mind is pretty empty these days. George felt at peace, it wasnt eerie or unusual it was peaceful and peacefully odd. </p>
<p>
  <em>"I want to hear Dreams voice again" </em>
</p>
<p>His thought echoed throughout the void, not soft yet not agressive?</p>
<p>"<em>Hello... is anyone there?" </em></p>
<p>His thoughts called out to him. Hearing is own voice was odd especially when he wasnt conscious but if this was his dream cant he do what he want? George kept wandering for a while, feet becoming numb against the gravel like flooring he had to walk upon. Was this actually a dream? It seems he was second guessing it now because surely you dont actually feel pain in a dream. Or can you? George made a mental note to google that later, it'd be a random fun fact to know. </p>
<p>He tried stopping walking but he couldnt, as if his feet were refusing. His body had refused to cooperate recently, he'd say what he thought and most of the time even regretted it but it did indeed entertain his viewers which gave him a sense of validation, something to keep him relevant in the mess of the community him and his friends had.</p>
<p>Is this what death Is like? Wandering through a void until you come to conclusion with yourself, your legs eventually wearing away to little stubs, revisiting life, pain and joy.</p>
<p>Suddenly things got depressing.</p>
<p>George blamed winter. The british winter was rarely like the winter people romanticised, no snow. Maybe snow wont happpen because the world or the people in it aren't ready for romance, George being one of them.He wasn't open with his feelings, how was he supposed to portray them? It's embarrassing to say the least, he barely copes when he's coaxed into saying he <em>loves </em>Dream on stream even if it's simply a joke between them.</p>
<p>Most of his friends were online never mind girlfriends or... boyfriends? Huh, he'd never thought about that before. What was love like? A soft tango or sex filled emotions or the gentle breeze of a winter day, speckles of hope falling from the sky in the form of the fozen tears of the earth. The void must be a reflection space, what more could it be? What he actually died in his sleep...</p>
<p>Froze to death on his chair, oh he'd regret so many things. Not meeting dream, not playing more with dream, not seeing his face, not going to florida. He'd regret not- he'd regret not knowing dream more.</p>
<p>Granted they're best friends of course they'd want to know eachother more or at least George wanted to know him more... what if Dream didn't want to know him as much as he wanted him? Wanted as in the friend sense, hugging sense... platonic sense. </p>
<p>What was he doing again? Oh yeah, dreaming about and endless void and trying to come to terms with himself. It kind of looked like the end. Is George's inner mind seriously surrounded with mineracft? Wow...</p>
<p>He kept walking and then he fell..</p>
<p>Into the void.</p>
<p>At least he wasnt walking anymore... right?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Messages</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>London England<br/></em>
</p>
<p>George's breath scratched and crawled out of his throat as he gasped and shot upwards, gripping the arms of his chair, eyes wide as he turned in confusion till he realised his endless void was back in his head. He didn't remember much from the dream just falling and thinking, thinking too much which was odd considering he tried to not dwelve into his tormenting inner thoughts. His limbs ached as if he had actually been taking the steps he did in the black vacuum of his thoughts, perhaps muscle recognition. Maybe he wasnt as asleep as he thought. Sweat trickled down his neck from his hair... he was sweating in this freezing cold? Perhaps something happened he couldn't remember or was he really that afraid of falling? Maybe he wasn't ready to fall. Falling seemed hard in most situations, falling from a high place resulted in pain or death yet falling for someone resulted in inevitable rejection and heartbreak except the once in a blue moon rare situation. Falling seemed horrible and quite disastrous yet his mind seemed to belive he was falling, but falling for what? Is someone lying to him, tricking him and only his subconscious has cought on?</p>
<p>No, hes over thinking again. Stop George you're not going to get anywhere thinking dumb stuff. </p>
<p>A soft yet cold breeze of carbon dioxide and oxygen escaped his system through his pink, gentle chapped lips as the boy sighed, bringing his palms up to his eyes and rubbing them to wake himself up. He felt like he slept for years, months and days; that dream lasted too long for his own sanity- it seems any form of dream drives him insane, imagination or real. Is that really what his mind looks like... blank? Why is he thinking about this, its just a stupid dream no need to go so deep into the meaning behind it.</p>
<p>"<em>What time is it?"</em> George mumbled to himself, reaching for his phone as the blanket he wore slipped off his shoulders, unovering him and leaving him simply in his thin shirt and pyjama shorts- a weird thing to wear in winter huh? Regardless of his stupid attire, his shoulders now cold he grabbed his phone, it freezed his once warm palms as he tapped the screen, the dull light gently refelcting upon his face yet not too obvious compared to the sunlight seeping from the window across his room.</p>
<p><em>12pm</em>?</p>
<p>He got a total of at least 8 hours sleep? It had been weeks since he got over 4 or none hours, did dream's voice do this? Putting him to sleep? No thats dumb he was tired anyway, yeah thats it. He hadn't gotten a good sleep in a while his body was just desperate for energy! As much as he wanted to deny it, Dreams voice was soothing at times and his laugh made him smile, he was really happy they were friends.</p>
<p>Speaking of the florida man, George's eyes lowered on his screen and observed the fact he had indeed recieved some messages from him late at night- well the morning- from around 4am. Thats around the time he feel asleep right? He smiled and opened his phone, cold fingers typing in the password quickly with droopy, sleepy eyes attempting for focus on the screen. He clicked on discord and looked at the messages he had recieved so early.</p>
<p>'<em>Thanks for picking up the call George, im sorry if you were going to sleep I just wanted to hear you, speak to you I guess...</em><em>Well anyway goodnight George, I hope you sleep well :)!'</em></p>
<p>What a nice message to wake up to, it left a soft warm feeling inside contrasting to the cold frost of his home, it was nice and peaceful. He wishes he could've stayed awake for longer, talking to dream and hearing him ramble, hearing is voice rather than receiving messages. His voice was calm yet not, cold and warm like the boy himself. George loved his voice. Of course George would never admit this to anyone, not even himself, he was too afraid. His thoughts were for him and him alone. </p>
<p>Breaking away from his hypnotic trance of thinking about his best friend, George typed a reply, half awake yet half asleep.</p>
<p>'<em>Sorry I fell asleep Dream, you were nice to talk to for bit :)' </em> George sent, blinking to himself as he sent the messge then suddenly his phone gittered and flashed as his screen was consumed by darkness. He raised an eyebrow, holding down the power button only for a battery sign to appear.</p>
<p>His phone died.</p>
<p>Georged groaned, leaning his elbows against the desk with his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes and waking himself up more when his stomach twisted together in a slight pain. He was hungry. </p>
<p>He didn't have much in his kitchen, not really eating much but when he does it was usually take out or out the house, being to lazy to actually do anything about his hunger. The boy pushed out his chair from under him, his legs standing and shaking slightly. His muscles still needed to awaken and due to the blood rushing quickly around his body he developed pins and needles in his </p>
<p>
  <em>ankles?</em>
</p>
<p>Odd, yet nothing he cant deal with, they'd eventually leave and he could carry on with his life normally. George stretched his arms above his head, shirt slightly riding up his stomach as he awokened himself. He wadled through his open bedroom door and into the space of his opened apartment and into the abandoned kitchen he had rarely touched, boxes stacked upon eachother as his diacarded blanket lay on the floor behind him. He stared into the somehow crowded yet empty space, his eyes catching on something and gazing out the window. Water droplets, trickling down the glazed glass. It was raining, again. Constant rain, constant water and constantly being trapped inside this apartment by the crap british winter. He wishes that atleast one time something interesting  would happen with the weather, something diffefent. Like snow. Yet one can hope and hoping was what he did. </p>
<p>He knew he had food somewhere in this mess. He waddled to the top cupboards, feet becoming numb against the cold white tiles of the open kitchen as he opened one of the doors and peered inside, looking up towards the top shelf and frowning, furrowing his eyebrows. There was a packet of crackers upon the top shelf. You'd think that this would be no problem for him, the man isnt exactly short yet the walls and cupboards of his London apartment were uncomfortably tall and even he struggled reaching the top shelf in this situation. He had to go on his tiptoes yet he was determined to get these goddam crackers.</p>
<p>
  <em>How did he even get them there in the first place?</em>
</p>
<p>He was so close, just an inch away until this legs betrayed him and he slipped from under himself, stumbling yet not falling but struggling to stay stable as he went to lean against an uncomfortably unstable stack of boxes which  just crashed and clanged against the floor, breaking open. An abundance of kitchen supplies and untensils sprawled across the tiles as well as random bits and pieces of decoration, pencils and more yet one thing stuck out to him. A hoodie with a soft smile placed upon it. Dreams merch. Well it was cold, he was uncomfortable and a hoodie was just lying there so he threw it on himself... because it was cold, not any other reason. Definitely not because of the association to his best friend. </p>
<p>It was warm, and soft. Comfy. He could probably fall asleep in it if there wasnt an outrageous mess surrounding him.</p>
<p>After a few minutes of contemplation at peace, he made the decision to stop procrastinating at get to work, placing his phone on charge and started to pick up and open items from boxes. He stretched, sorted and placed stuff in cupboards, finally cleaning and organising. Forks, spoons and knives in draws, bowls and plates in cupboards, a funky fake house plant in the corner of his kitchen island and soon enough everything was in place. </p>
<p>Approximately 3 hours had passed and as he overlooked his livingroom he scowled at the multiple boxes- organising the other rooms is something he can save for another day.</p>
<p>He sighed, trudging back to his room and completely forgetting about the crackers he had originally left for and collapsed in his chair, grabbing his phone and holding down the button, watching it spring to life. As the device slowly connected to the internet his phone began blowing up with discord notifications and when he saw who they were from, he smiled. He snuggled more into the hoodie and opened the app, bringing his knees to his chest as he read them out in his mind.</p>
<p>'<em>Hey George are you awake yet? Did you sleep well?' Recieved 13:00</em></p>
<p>
  <em>'Georgieeee helloooooo. ' Recieved 13:23 </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>'Sap's streaming on the Smp, are you joining? :/' Received 14:53</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>'GeeEeOOrGgEeE' Recieved 15:01</em>
</p>
<p>George smiled reading them, he really wanted his attention huh? He placed his phone down and opened his pc, selecting discord and staring at the call with people inside, hesitating joining but eventually did.</p>
<p>
  <em>'Hello...?'</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>'GEORGE!'</em>
</p>
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